


Together

by asking_rickyl



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Rick Grimes, Brief Lori Bashing, Established Relationship, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay Sex, Hurt Rick Grimes, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Porn With Plot, Protective Daryl Dixon, Rickyl, Some Plot, Top Daryl Dixon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15333693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asking_rickyl/pseuds/asking_rickyl
Summary: Rick gets hurt; a relationship with Daryl follows.





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I want to apologize for being so inactive on here. I promise I'm still alive!
> 
> This fic is based off of the episode where Daryl gets hurt, just that the roles are switched. I started this one-shot a while ago and never finished it, so I finally kicked myself in the ass and gathered the motivation to do so. Hopefully my smut has gotten better from my first work.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, bookmarked, or gave me kudos on my work. I appreciate all the feedback.
> 
> Enjoy!

Rick hadn’t planned for everything to go to shit when he set out to look for Sophia earlier in the day. He had the entire scenario laid out in his head; take his gun and knife, head into the forest, and cover as much ground as possible before either finding Sophia or returning back to the farm before the sun began to set. Of course the leader expected a few setbacks considering the inconvenient danger of being gnawed on by a walker, but everything that could’ve went wrong, did go wrong, and it caused more than just a minor setback.

The chain of events began when Rick was cornered by a large group of walkers, blocking him from the way he had came. The ex-sheriff had managed to stab and ground a few walkers before the weight from one of the bodies caused him to fall backwards, giving the undead the ultimate advantage. This led to Rick having to rely on the last thing he wanted to resort to; his Colt.

Although painfully aware that the use of the firearm would gather more walkers, Rick pulled the trigger knowing that if he didn’t get the snarling walker off of him soon, he could kiss making it back to the farm with his life goodbye. Once the bullet passed through the walker’s brain, Rick shoved the corpse to the side before scrambling to his feet and hightailing it away from the herd.

He knew he was traveling in the opposite direction of the farm, but at the moment, he didn’t have any other choice but to find a clear area of the forest to gather his thoughts and come up with a plan to make it back to his group alive. The trees and surrounding brush were in full bloom, making it hard to decipher how many walkers were approaching from which part of the woods and Rick soon found himself surrounded on all sides, making his only escape the creek below.

Not being able to keep an eye on either side of himself proved to be a downfall as Rick was caught off guard when a walker sprang from his right, its jaws snapping together with ravenous force. The ex-sheriff managed to keep the upper hand in his wrestling match with the undead woman until his foot was forced to take a step backwards.

The leader was met with loose dirt that barely clung to the side of the bank, quickly giving way to his weight and sending him tumbling down the rocky mound. Rick was thrown into the creek, the walker on top of him thrashing about in an attempt to find any way to get even the smallest taste of his flesh. Once Rick was able to shoot the walker, he threw it beside him and scrambled to the other side of the creek, falling limp onto the sandy bank.

Catching his breath, Rick propped himself up on his elbow as he scanned his surroundings. To his relief, most of the walkers had abandoned their chase and went to search for another meal in the opposite direction. A few from the herd decided to continue on, stumbling down the hill and coming to a stop in a pile of limbs on the other side of the creek. Two walkers managed make their way to the water with the intent on crossing, but Rick figured he had a decent amount of time to pull himself together to assess the damage the fall had inflicted on his body before they worked their way over to him.

“Son of a bitch,” Rick hissed as he rolled onto his side, his fingers getting covered with more and more blood as he examined himself. The leader was relieved to find that he wasn’t bitten during the whole ordeal, but he certainly didn’t get off unscathed, either.

Rick’s entire body ached, purpling bruises most likely making their way to the surface of his skin. His left side was causing him the most distress, the nerves and muscles screaming out in agony. Rick knew this had to be the main source of all the blood that still continued to stream down into a pool underneath him. Ripping his shirt open, he found just exactly what the culprit was; a shard of glass.

Despite the urge to remove the foreign object, Rick knew that was the worst thing he could do. Sitting up, he tore off the left sleeve of his shirt before wrapping it around his hand. Trembling, Rick did his best to steady himself as he carefully grabbed onto the shard and broke off the half that was protruding from his side.

After tearing his other shirt sleeve from its place, he removed the one wrapped around his hand and tied the two strands of fabric together. Thanks to the skill of keeping a level head in times a chaos that Rick had learned during his police training, the ex-sheriff was able to tie the makeshift tourniquet around his torso and fasten it together with steady hands.

The sudden splash of the stray walker attempting to make its way across the creek snapped Rick back to his mission of making it back to the farm. The sheriff stood and turned around to study the bank he was about to climb—a task that would nonetheless be difficult for someone that didn’t have a shard of glass lodged in their torso.

Realizing that he had no other choice but to suck it up, Rick limped towards the hill and grabbed a hold of a vine that seemed to reach out like a helping hand. The leader gripped onto the plant as if his life depended on it—well, it kind of did—and began his ascent. After falling once and scraping his arms on a few rocks, Rick finally made it to the top of the bank, flopping down into the brush like a sack of laundry.

By the time he made his way back to the farm, Rick felt worse than he did when he tumbled down the bank. An exchange of heated words off in the distance is what guided him directly to the farm, his ears picking up the familiar, husky sound of Daryl’s voice as he got closer. Choosing to stay back and observe the situation, Rick peeked through the brush and found Daryl closing in on Shane, the hunter asserting himself with wide shoulders and fierce eyes.

“Yer the reason he ain’t back yet, ya prick!” Daryl barked, shoving the former deputy’s partner with a pair of strong hands.

Stepping forward and trying to look as intimidating as possible, Lori stepped between the two men, “Daryl, stop! This isn’t Shane’s fault! I’m sure that Rick will be back s—”

“Oh shut up, ya bitch!” The hunter snapped, Lori shrinking back at Daryl’s tone. “This _is_ Shane’s fault! I told ‘im not ta let anyone go out on their own, but his fat head wouldn’t listen!”

“Don’t you talk to her like that, you worthless redneck!” Shane yelled, stepping forward and holding his arm in front of Lori in protection.

“Really? The only reason yer stickin’ up fer her is ‘cause yer fuckin’ her brains out! So much fer a wife ‘n’ so much fer a friend!” Daryl hissed, the veins in his neck sticking out like electrical cords coursing with rage.

Rick couldn’t help but wince even though he was already aware of Lori’s actions—he just didn’t want to accept it for what it was. However, hearing Daryl’s voice defend him with such passion replaced the black pool of helplessness with a warm feeling of attraction and admiration for the hunter. Watching Daryl’s angry fire continuously grow, his devotion to defending Rick, made the sheriff’s stomach churn with arousal despite the state his body was in.

Rick was snapped back to the seriousness of the situation when he saw Daryl pull back his fist, ready to land a homerun directly into Shane’s face. That’s when the leader realized that there was no reason to keep this charade going—he had made it back, after all—and so he stumbled out from the brush, calling Daryl’s name before the hunter could manage to break his friend’s face.

“Daryl, stop!” Rick shouted, using what air that was left in his lungs to get the hunter’s attention, “I’m back, see? I’m—I’m alri-” The last thing Rick heard was Daryl calling his name before he began to sink into a pool of darkness, his surroundings slowly slipping away.

-

Daryl paced the floor, chewing vigorously on the skin around his thumbnail—his go-to in times of stress. It took T-Dog to hold him back—an event that almost tore his shirt off—and some convincing from Dale not to shatter Shane’s face. It was hard for the hunter to stop himself from forcing his way into the room where Hershel was tending to Rick. Daryl knew he was in good hands, but the thought of Rick being in there alone made his heart ache.

Ever since Daryl came out of the brush and met Rick Grimes face-to-face, he knew he would be devoted to the man till the end of his days. Those beautiful blue eyes—instantly making him forget about the loss of his deer—have been ingrained in his mind to this very day.

How could Shane have been so careless? Could he not see how important Rick was? It baffled Daryl that someone could so easily look past Rick’s skills as a leader—the way his heart always puts everyone before himself, striving to keep everybody safe and together as a family. All of this and more put together the man that the hunter has proudly come to admire.

Still, the archer continued his nervous pacing, thinking how could he, Daryl Dixon, the man that is always one step ahead, be so careless as well? If he hadn’t been off brooding and avoiding the group, maybe things would’ve went differently for Rick.

Maybe Daryl could’ve gone with Rick, keeping him safe and lending a hand when it was needed. Maybe they could have covered more ground together—an extra set of eyes to search for Sophia. Maybe the two of them could’ve found a decent place to take a break, discuss different tactics and future plans while they sat side-by-side, getting lost in each other’s eyes as they spoke.

The hunter would be able to tell the ex-sheriff how he feels about him and lay all of his cards on the table as he’d brush his lips against Rick’s and thrust his fingers into those tiny curls of hair at the back of his head while he made himself at home in the leader’s lap. Rick’s hands would grasp onto Daryl’s hips, his fingertips slipping under the archer’s shirt, wandering higher—

“He’s all stitched up and resting.” Hershel stated, walking out of Rick’s room and closing the door behind him. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes away from the cloth Hershel was wringing his hands in—the once white fabric now turned scarlet-red with blood; Rick’s blood.

“S’that means he’s okay,” Daryl croaked, desperately trying to swallow the lump forming in his throat, “right?”

“Yes,” Hershel nodded, “I cleaned the wound thoroughly, so the chance of infection is low. All he needs now is rest.” With that, the vet let Daryl by himself, standing outside Rick’s door filled with feelings of helplessness and longing.

-

The last few days had been pretty uneventful for Rick—not being able to do much other than follow the instructions Hershel had given him to achieve a faster recovery and converse with those that came to take care of him.

The routine was simple; Beth would come and bring him breakfast while Maggie stood by and changed his bandages. Carl would join him for his meal, finishing whatever Rick didn’t have the appetite for. After Carl left, Shane would accompany him in some “bro time.”

Rick honestly believed the only reason Shane was there was because he felt like he had an obligation towards him. To be blunt, the leader didn’t want his former partner in his room at all—the conversation always directed towards himself—but Rick put up with it for one simple reason; he got to watch Daryl pace outside his door, paying attention to Shane’s every move, a possessive look splayed across his face that turned Rick on to no end.

Shane would eventually leave, Daryl taking his place, thus beginning Rick’s favorite time of the day. The two men passed the time with conversation, Rick listening and weighing in when needed while the hunter sat on the edge of the bed and spoke to the man as if he had known him for years.

Daryl talked about his brother and how he missed him even though he was a “simple-minded piece of shit.” He spoke about his crossbow, the draw weight and the make, how he learned and about the time he grazed Merle’s ear during target practice when he was still getting the hang of handling the weapon.

Rick happily listened, chuckling at Daryl’s stories and taking in his laughter, forever storing the sound into the forefront of his mind. This was easy—Rick thought—talking to Daryl and being in each other’s company. This wasn’t like speaking to Shane or Lori, the conversation always feeling forced and strained—clearly a waste of time to the both of them.

With Daryl, everything felt right. He knew Daryl heard him, actually listened to what he had to say, not because he had to, but because he genuinely wanted to. When Rick was angry, Daryl would pay attention to his words, nodding to show he understood. There was no rolling of the eyes or a hand on the hip looking as if everything was his own fault the way Lori did.

When Daryl talked about himself, he carefully chose each word, looking to Rick for any signs of annoyance—of course there was none. The hunter mentioned things that were close and meaningful to him compared to the subject of how many chicks he supposably banged back in high school the way Shane did.

With Daryl, the conversations never felt one-sided—always equally shared—and Rick dreaded when they would end compared to practically begging for his conversations with Shane and Lori to be cut short and forgotten.

If Rick knew that this situation would have brought him and Daryl closer—both showing sides of each other they didn’t dare show anyone else—Rick would’ve gotten hurt long ago.

-

Tonight was Rick’s last night in the spare room upstairs—Hershel insisting that the leader had made a full recovery and that his old back couldn’t stand one more night on the couch. It was late evening, soon ready to slip into night, when Rick heard the sound of Daryl’s boots making their way up the steps.

In the past week, Rick and Daryl had established a relationship with each other, both men explaining their feelings the best they could manage and finding out that they were both on the same page—since Atlanta in fact.

For the first day or two, they simply talked about themselves and the actual relationship—Rick never being with a man before, and Daryl never engaging in anything other than oral sex. They both discussed boundaries, even creating a safeword incase one of them would become uncomfortable or unsure about their actions.

They eventually grew tired of talking, both men craving to explore one another and map out their favorite parts of each other’s bodies. Each day, the hunter started to become more and more anxious, Rick picking up on the reoccurring bulge in Daryl’s jeans. Not to mention Rick himself, hiding his growing excitement from underneath the bed sheets.

Earlier in the day, they both agreed that tonight would be the perfect time to carry out their first moment together—the privacy of the room and the comfort of the bed making it as luxurious as it could possibly get in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Using the sound of Carl and Shane bickering over who gets the better pillow, Daryl slipped inside Rick’s room, closing it as softly as possible before locking it shut behind him. The sound echoed through Rick’s ears, his face flushing as he watched the archer swiftly make his way over to the bed, an undeniable pep in his step.

Setting his crossbow against the wall, Daryl wasted no time in closing the space between him and Rick. The hunter took hold of Rick’s shoulders, pulling him forward and pressing his lips against the leader’s. Both men sighed, relieved at the feeling of finally being able to show each other their affection for one another, pouring their pent-up love and arousal straight into the kiss.

The younger man’s lack of experience showed through in the kiss, but Rick happily took the lead, holding Daryl’s face in his hands as he gently guided the hunter along. Not a moment later, both pair of lips slipped together like puzzles pieces, fitting snug and feeling like home as they moved in perfect harmony.

Daryl moaned, feeling brave as he threaded his fingers into the leader’s hair, the hunter’s tongue swiping along Rick’s lips, asking for entrance. The ex-sheriff’s jaw opened slightly, allowing Daryl’s tongue to slip inside and dance along his own. Both muscles wrestled with each other, the exchange of saliva driving the leader and his hunter mad with want.

The archer pulled away, wiping the saliva from his chin with the back of his hand and looked down at Rick, eyes blown wide with desire.

“Been wantin’ ta do that fer a while now.” Daryl said, his breath steadying now that he’d calmed himself. “Hate that we waited s’long…”

“Hey, we’re together now, ‘n’ that’s all that matters to me. Now, let’s get you undressed,” Rick purred, climbing out from under the covers. “then you can strip me.”

The ex-deputy stood behind the hunter, wrapping his arms around his waist, twisting his hips in circles to make sure Daryl felt Rick’s hard, clothed cock rub against his ass.

“Rick,” Daryl groaned, the air in the room suddenly feeling heavy as he began to toe off his boots.

When taking his boots off should’ve only taken Daryl less than five seconds, it turned out to take him more than ten seconds, having to stop and steady himself while Rick tended to his neck. The leader pressed soft, careful kisses along the first few digits of Daryl’s spine and proceeded to suck faint marks into the archer’s tan skin.

“Dammit, Rick,” Daryl huffed, finally getting his boots off and kicking them to the side, “yer gonna make me cum ‘fore we even get started.”

The leader chuckled, pleased with himself at how flustered he was making Daryl. Calloused hands cradled the hunter’s hips, rubbing in soft circles until they made their way to his belt.

Skilled fingers made quick work of the archer’s buckle, pulling the strip of leather through the loops of his pants once he had it unfastened. Rick unbuttoned Daryl’s jeans, his fingers slowly lowering the zipper before slipping his hands inside.

“I’m goin’ to memorize every inch of your body.” Rick whispered, teasing the shell of the hunter’s ear with his tongue before burying his nose into the archer’s brown hair, inhaling the scent that was solely Daryl. The ex-sheriff trailed his left hand lower, cupping Daryl’s balls while his opposite hand massaged over the hunter’s confined length, the fabric of his boxers outlining the girth of his cock.

Bathing in the whimpers that no one would expect to ever come from the mouth of Daryl Dixon, the leader slipped the archer’s leather vest from his shoulders, dropping it to the floor as he snaked his hands up the hunter’s chest and began to unbutton his flannel shirt. Two buttons in, the leader couldn’t help but rub his hands along Daryl’s exposed arms, the missing sleeves showing off his perfectly toned biceps.

“You’re a work of art, Daryl Dixon, you know that?” The ex-deputy purred, lapping at the archer’s nape with soft flicks of his tongue.

“Nothin’ special.” Daryl mumbled, sucking in gasps of air everytime Rick’s tongue pressed against his skin.

The leader couldn’t help but let out a huff at the modesty of the hunter, the man never allowing himself to accept a compliment. After he finished undoing the rest of the buttons, Rick grabbed both sides of Daryl’s shirt and began to slip it off of his shoulders when the archer halted the man’s ministrations, quickly grabbing Rick’s hands with his own, stopping the older man in his tracks.

“Daryl, what did I do wrong?” Rick stammered, automatically letting go of Daryl’s shirt, the archer still clutching the leader’s hands to his chest.

“Ain’t done nothin’ wrong, Rick. S’just, I ain’t proud’a m’past...” Daryl started, his voice trailing off and getting lost in the silence of the room.

“Daryl, it’s me,” The sheriff stated, pulling Daryl flush against his chest and resting his chin on the hunter’s broad shoulder. “Me, out of all people—out of all of us—you know I’d be the last person to ever judge you.”

“I know that, Rick. I jus’ ain’t never really took m’shirt off in front’a no one.” Daryl said, forcing his body to stay still and avoid bolting from the room to retreat somewhere alone.

Rick really didn’t know just exactly what Daryl was getting at. The leader figured the man was simply insecure about his body, God knows why. Was he uncomfortable about his broad shoulders or his small waist? The ex-sheriff was aware that there are people that are insecure about their body, hell, sometimes the bow in his legs bothered him, but he just couldn’t understand it in Daryl’s situation. In Rick’s eyes, the man was perfection at its finest.

“Daryl, I’m sure it’s nothin’ to be insecure about. Just—” Rick started, his words cut off when Daryl released the hold on his hands and let his shirt slip down his arms and onto the floor. The leader was face-to-face with the hunter’s past, an up close and brutal feeling of realization making his blood run cold. Even though Rick didn’t know the severity of the situation, he suddenly felt disgusted with himself at how lightly he took Daryl’s feelings of insecurity.

Long, thick ropes of raised scar tissue littered the hunter’s back, standing out amongst his otherwise untouched, tan skin. Rick’s brain couldn’t form words, hell, he didn’t know if any words he spoke would be any sort of help for the man.

“I didn’t know.” Rick said, causing Daryl to sigh and shrug his shoulders as if this was nothing.

“S’okay, Rick. Ain’t yer fault. Let’s—“

“Do you wanna talk—“ Rick began to ask before quickly being interrupted by the sternness in Daryl’s voice.

“No!” The hunter sighed, lowering his voice as he remembered the rest of the group were right downstairs. “I don’ wanna talk ‘bout it. Let’s jus’ forget about it ‘n’ continue.”

Rick nodded, respecting Daryl’s decision at keeping his past locked up tight. The ex-deputy leaned forward, pressing tender kisses along one of the archer’s scars, the contact with the sensitive skin sending shivers up his spine.

“Over here.” Rick said, making his way to stand in front of Daryl and guide him back against the wall. “Let’s get these off.” The older man purred, dropping to his knees and shucking Daryl’s pants down his legs, letting him step out of the garment before tossing it beside the bed.

The hunter’s boxers were next to go, being tossed to the side and landing somewhere unknown as Rick sat back on his caves, marveling at Daryl’s cock that was on full display in front of him. The leader felt his mouth begin to water as his eyes zeroed in on the archer’s head, mesmerized by the small amount of precum beginning to bead around the slit. Rick hadn’t realized he’d been staring for quite a while until he felt Daryl’s gaze focused on him.

“Yer starin,’” The hunter blushed, chewing on his bottom lip and averting his eyes as soon as Rick looked up at him. “Sorry,” Rick stated, not sounding in any way sincere, “I just got distracted by this.” The leader said, punctuating his words with a nod of his head towards Daryl’s cock before he took it into his hand and gave the head a generous lick.

“Fuck,” Daryl mumbled, threading his fingers into Rick’s hair.

“You like that, huh?” The older man teased, dipping the tip of his tongue into the slit of Daryl’s cock.

“Fuck! Yes,” The archer stated, blue eyes now flooded dark with lust.

“Well then you’ll love this.” The ex-sheriff mentally crossed his fingers as he leaned forward and took the head of the younger man’s cock between his lips, swirling his tongue between the ridge underneath. This was Rick’s first time ever giving a blowjob, so his strategy was simple; think about what pleased him and try to reenact what he saw being done in his fair share of watching porn and hope that Daryl enjoys it.

“Oh, shit, Rick. Feels good,” The hunter moaned, tugging on Rick’s hair and bucking his hips forward. Daryl’s eyes shot open when he heard Rick cough, the older man pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Daryl immediately started to spill out his apology, but Rick stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“It’s okay, Daryl. You just caught me off guard, is all.” The leader said, taking the archer’s entire length into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks until the head of Daryl’s cock touched the back of his throat. Rick held himself there for a few seconds before pulling back and placing his hand around the base of the archer’s length and generously worked the head with his lips.

The former sheriff moaned around Daryl’s cock, savoring the sweet and salty taste of the archer’s precum leaking onto his tongue. Daryl threw his head back, resting it against the wall behind him. His breath hitched, feeling his balls twitch slightly as his climax began to build.

“Ain’t gonna last if ya keep goin’ like this,” The hunter moaned, chewing mercilessly on his bottom lip.

Rick pulled off of Daryl’s cock with a pop, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the younger man’s thin lips. The leader ridded himself of his old white t-shirt, throwing it to the floor and leaving him in just his thin, light-blue boxers.

The older man pressed his hips forward, rubbing his clothed cock against Daryl’s bare member, smearing both of their precum into the fabric. The archer began to grow impatient, assuming Rick’s previous position and sinking to his knees in front of the leader.

“S’my turn now.” Daryl said, his accent becoming more prominent and weighed down by his arousal.

“You look so good down there, Daryl.” Rick panted, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his lower lip.

The archer blushed, tearing his gaze away from Rick’s eyes and focusing on the older man’s very obvious hard-on, the fleshy member no longer contained as the head peaked out from the waistband of his boxers.

Daryl leaned forward, tracing soft circles with his tongue into the leader’s protruding hip-bones, occasionally nipping at the thin skin and sucking faint marks to the surface.

Calloused fingers pulled at the thin fabric, Daryl quickly maneuvering Rick’s boxers down his bowed legs, giving the man time to step out of the garment and kick it to the side. The ex-sheriff couldn’t help but look down at his hunter and thread his fingers through the younger man’s hair, cradling his chin with his free hand and carefully gliding his thumb along Daryl’s lower lip.

“Gonna suck me good, Daryl?” Rick growled, his eyes darkening and losing their usual blue hue.

Daryl grunted his response, closing the space between him and Rick as he took hold of the leader’s length with his right hand. The hunter carefully rolled down the older man’s foreskin, seeking better access to his leaking slit. Pressing the flat of his tongue against Rick’s head, Daryl made sure to gather each bead of precum that was easing its way out with eager arousal.

The leader’s pants encouraged Daryl on, the younger man taking Rick’s member to the back of his throat, hollowing out his cheeks as he used his free hand to reach forward and massage his balls. Daryl felt the older man’s calloused fingers thread through his hair, tugging it in his fist every time his cock touched the back of the hunter’s throat.

“Shit,” Rick huffed, slowly pulling his hips away from Daryl, his cock leaving the younger man’s mouth covered in a thin layer of saliva. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait until you fuck me.”

Daryl blushed, getting to his feet before taking a hold of Rick’s hand and guiding him to the bed. As Rick got comfortable, the hunter picked up his vest from the floor, grabbing a small bottle of lube from the inside pocket. Daryl couldn’t help but chew on his lower lip in anticipation as he watched Rick from the corner of his eye, the older man pleasuring himself as he waited for Daryl to join him.

The archer climbed onto the bed in front of Rick and positioned himself between Rick’s legs, leaning forward on his knees and giving the leader’s lips a quick kiss before sitting back onto his heels.

“Gonna have ta prep ya.” Daryl said, uncapping the bottle of lube and squeezing a generous amount out onto his fingers.

“I’m ready.” Rick said, lifting up his legs and holding them against his chest to give the hunter better access to his entrance.

“Have ya ever done this ‘fore?” Daryl drawled, guiding his hand down to Rick’s ass and gently sliding his slick fingers between the leader’s asscheeks.

The older man blushed, shifting his gaze away from Daryl. “Well, I tried fingerin’ myself before, but it just ended up feelin’ weird. Apparently there’s a spot inside that’s suppose to feel good? I couldn’t seem to find it, so I just gave up.”

“You’ll know when I find it.” Daryl chuckled, rubbing his index finger against Rick’s hole before gently inserting it up to his first knuckle. He gently began to curl it, easing the digit further into the leader. “Ya feelin’ a’right?” The hunter asked, stilling his hand and meeting Rick’s eyes.

Rick nodded, trying to still the nervous shakes coming from his body. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just feels a little strange. You can keep goin’ though.”

“Promise it’ll feel good soon.” The hunter said as he proceeded to insert his finger all the way inside, gently curling it against Rick’s walls. Once he felt the muscles relax around his finger, Daryl circled the tip of his middle finger against Rick’s entrance, massaging the ring and spreading more of the lube around. “Are ya ready fer ‘nother finger?”

The leader nodded his approval, closing his eyes and taking in a series of deep breaths and releasing them gently through his nose. The addition of Daryl’s second finger didn’t hurt, it just came with a dull ache and a slight burn as Rick’s muscles adjusted to the foreign feeling. The archer set a steady pace, working the older man open until he finally brushed against that bundle of nerves, causing Rick to grip the sheets below and release a moan filled with pure bliss.

“F-Fuck, is that what you were talkin’ about?” Rick gasped, unknowingly rocking his hips back against Daryl’s fingers in a search for another burst of that wonderful feeling.

“Yeah, that was it. Feels good, don’ it?” Daryl smirked, catching Rick off guard as he applied pressure to the leader’s prostate, dragging a beautiful chorus of moans from the older man’s mouth. The hunter leaned down, taking Rick’s lips into a quick kiss before sitting back up. “Gotta be quiet, _sheriff_.”

“Shit, Daryl…” Rick groaned, his cock twitching at Daryl’s sudden use of the nickname. He couldn’t stop his hand from engulfing his length in a vice-like grip, stroking the member slowly and stopping to rub the head with the back of his thumb.

“No.” Daryl stated, gently grabbing Rick’s wrist and pulling his hand away from its hold on his cock. “You’ll cum ‘fore I even get m’dick in ya.” The leader nodded, busying his hands by taking hold of the sheets underneath him.

After inserting a third finger and making sure Rick was properly prepped, Daryl removed his fingers and grabbed the bottle of lube, squeezing a dollop onto his cock and giving it a few strokes to make sure it was thoroughly covered with the liquid.

“C’mon, Daryl.” Rick groaned, wiggling his ass to grab Daryl’s attention.

“Ain’t gonna get’cha hurt.” Daryl stated, taking Rick’s left leg and placing it over his shoulder as his other wrapped around the hunter’s waist.

Holding his cock lightly, Daryl massaged the head against Rick’s hole, softly applying pressure but not entering just yet. Getting a nod from the older man, the hunter made sure his cock was properly aligned before slowly pushing into Rick, stopping a few times along the way to allow the leader to adjust to the archer’s girth.

Once he filled Rick completely, Daryl stilled himself, not allowing his hips to move until he got the signal from Rick. The older man had his eyes closed, his lips pressed together as sweat began to bead along his temple. The leader spoke up as he felt Daryl beginning to pull away, placing his hand on the younger man’s hips.

“It doesn’t hurt, Daryl. It’s just...different. You’re bigger than I thought.” Rick chuckled, his breath leaving his lungs in a series of small huffs.

“Ain’t that big.” Daryl argued, shaking his head as he hid his blush from Rick by focusing on the leader’s chest hair, tracing tiny circles in the patch leading down to his cock, hoping to calm the older man as he made his adjustment.

“Okay.” Rick said, his breathing now slower than before. “God, Daryl…move, please.”

Daryl’s cock twitched inside the confines of Rick’s walls as he held onto the leader’s shin for leverage before he began to softly roll his hips, the lube creating an easy and smooth pace. The hunter growled, the warmth of the older man blanketing his cock in pleasure.

“Yer so tight.” Daryl stated, nibbling on his lower lip as his speed began to increase, a thick sheen of sweat coating the bodies of both men. The head of the archer’s cock brushed against Rick’s prostate, causing the ex-deputy to yell out, his nails digging into Daryl’s skin.

“Fuck, Daryl!” Rick screamed, not caring who heard as the pleasure surged through his veins and sent every nerve in his body to attention. This was heaven, the leader thought. Here, held in Daryl’s arms as the younger man catered to him. Both men bathed in each other’s love for one another, each of them able to forget the horror that had stolen their previous lives right out from under them. As terrible as this apocalypse was, Rick found good in it; the people he’s had the privilege of meeting—the one’s he now holds near and dear to himself—one of those specifically being Daryl.

The younger man let himself fall forward, sliding his arms under Rick’s armpits and grasping onto his shoulders as he began to pound into the leader, releasing his bouts of hot breath against the older man’s ear. “G-Gotta be quiet, R-Rick…” Daryl whispered, trying to get his words out while being rendered speechless from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Can’t.” Rick huffed, rocking his hips in time with Daryl’s thrusts. “Not when you feel so goddamn good in me.”

“Are ya gettin’ close?” The archer asked, lifting his head to look down at the leader, taking a moment to brush a few stray curls from Rick’s forehead.

“I’ve been close, I just don’t want it to be over with.” Rick stated, holding his breath as he tried to hold off his inevitable climax.

“Rick,” Daryl whispered, taking the leader’s cock into his hand as he began to stroke him to meet each thrust into the man’s prostate. “This is the start’a somethin’ that’s gonna last till the end’a time. We’ll be doin’ this countless times, I promise. Won’t be able ta keep my hands off ya now that I know how it feels.”

“Daryl, you romantic.” Rick joked, his lips formed into a silly smirk.

“Bein’ a smartass, Grimes?” The archer teased, increasing the speed of his stokes to the older man’s leaking cock before taking his hand away and placing it back down onto the mattress. “How ‘bout I don’ let ya cum?”

“You ass.” The leader hissed, reaching down to replace Daryl’s hand on his cock with his own before the archer shooed it away once again.

“Jus’ kiddin,’ Rick. That’s fer ‘nother night.” Daryl smiled, taking hold of Rick’s cock and stroking him as he continued to hit that perfect spot inside the older man.“Wanna see ya cum fer me.”

“Oh fuck.” Rick groaned, his head pressing back into the pillow as his leg fell from Daryl’s shoulder and wrapped around his waist, pulling the younger man deeper inside of him. “Harder, Daryl. I’m close.”

The archer complied, pounding harder into the man as he jerked him simultaneously, bringing the leader closer and closer to his release. Feeling Rick’s balls draw up as his walls clenched tightly around Daryl’s cock, the archer knew the older man had found his release, thick, white ropes spraying out onto his chest.

Daryl leaned back onto his knees, gripping on to Rick’s hips as he continued to drive his hips forward, ready to pour himself into his newfound lover. “Close…” The archer groaned, chewing on his bottom lip fervorously.

“Cum in me, Daryl.” Rick purred, his hand finding Daryl’s cheek as his thumb gently swiped across his slick skin.

That was all the archer needed before he held himself against Rick’s ass, growling the leader’s name as his cock pulsed inside of the older man and coated his walls.

Daryl took his time removing himself from Rick, planting himself next to the leader in a huff. Both men took a moment to steady their breathing, Rick being the first to initiate the conversation afterwards.

“Daryl, that was...that was perfect.” The leader whispered, rolling over to face the younger man. He felt Daryl’s cum beginning to slowly drip from his ass, his cock giving a twitch at the intimacy of the feeling.

“Ain’t much fer cuddlin,’ but.” Daryl stated, scooting closer and propping himself up on his elbow to properly look at the leader before speaking any further. “Really was worried ‘bout ya when ya didn’t come back right away.”

“Daryl, I was fine. Some things just—” Rick started.

“No, Rick.” The archer said, holding his hand up to stop Rick mid-sentence. “I ain’t lettin’ ya go out there by yerself again, ya hear me? From now on,” Daryl whispered, a slight crack in his voice as he grabbed Rick’s hand and intertwined their fingers together. “we’re doin’ everythin’ together.”

Rick smiled, silently thanking God for creating such a beautiful human being. Leaning over the side of the bed, Rick used his shirt to clean off his chest before tossing it back onto the floor and grabbing the covers to pull it over the both of them. Aside from Carl’s birth, the leader couldn’t think of a time he felt happier than he did right now.

Rick wouldn’t want to conquer this new world with anyone else, and so he pulled Daryl’s head into his chest, pressing his nose into the younger man’s hair. The leader switched off the lamp, leaning down to brush his lips against the archer’s ear, whispering—

“Together then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you'd like! I love to hear from all of my readers.


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